


Smile For Me

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: Depression, Guilt, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22153144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You don’t understand why things must be so hard. You’ve tried your very best yet it never seems as if it’s ever enough. You miss her. You knew it was an accident, but you’re still upset. She was your mother, and you loved her. It just wasn’t fair how she had to be taken away from you like that.
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous





	Smile For Me

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning for a graphic suicide attempt

You don’t understand why things must be so hard. You’ve tried your very best yet it never seems as if it’s ever enough. You miss her. You knew it was an accident, but you’re still upset. She was your mother, and you loved her. It just wasn’t fair how she had to be taken away from you like that. 

You contemplate ending your life. But just how would you do it? You’re almost never alone, and the only thing you have is well… too large for your size. You curse at yourself for being so young and small. It isn’t fair how others could get away with things like this but you can’t. 

You scream and punch the ground beneath you. It feels as if everything is your fault. You don’t understand why everything has to happen because of you. You’re shaking, breaths becoming heavy and uneven. Perhaps, if you had not been here from the start, none of this would have happened. He’s gone as well, and it’s because of you. If only evokers could shoot real bullets, that would be your perfect opportunity. Just shooting yourself in the head, it all seems so quick and easy. Said to be painless according to the internet. But the realisation that you’ll never get ahold of a real gun hits you, and you cry even harder this time.

\----

It’s been two days now. Two days now that you’ve been absent from school and two days since you’ve last eaten. There is a growing pain in your stomach that refuses to go away. Could it be because of the starvation? You wonder how long it will take for your body to give out on you after depriving yourself of the usual nutrients needed to keep yourself going. The room feels cold and there seems to be no connection to anyone or anything. You haven’t spoken to anyone since his death. They’ve all decided to leave you alone. It’s better that way anyway, you figure. You run your hand through your hair, realising how greasy it’s now gotten.  _ That’s gross.  _ You decide to get things together, for today at least.

\----

When you return to school after a week, the teachers begin to question you, and so of course, you lie to them.  _ I just wasn’t feeling well!  _ That along with looking up at them with big, sorry eyes. (It usually wins them over.) Relief washes over you when you realise they’ve fallen for your trick, knowing that you’ve gotten yourself out of this one. You’re such a little liar, you should be disgusted with yourself. 

But it’s when you find yourself alone in the art room where you should feel the most shame. It’s there, in front of you, sitting in a lonely little corner on your teacher’s desk. A crafting tool, likely used for carving wood. You cannot resist the temptation as you realise how sharp the blade really is after further examining it. Slipping it into your bag, you wonder how much it would hurt once being pressed against your skin, splitting it open. You only sigh as you zip close your bag, making your way out of the classroom. 

  
  


\----

The first cut stung, deep as it was. You’ve gotten yourself used to the sight of monsters and blood… but this, this was something new. You position the blade near your wrist, pushing down harder than you did the first time. It  _ hurts,  _ and you swear you’ve never felt pain like this before. Briefly, you wonder what the others would think of you if you were to be caught doing this. Does it really matter? It doesn’t.  _ But what would mother say?  _ And that’s when you decide you want to be with her again. You’ve already lost so much, what more is there to lose? It’s not like you have any potential. Sure, you’re intelligent and mature for your age. But you’re weak, and you’re not sure what to do anymore. You’ve lost your will to keep going long ago. Everyone dies eventually. So what? You die a few years earlier than the average person. Okay, you die  _ several _ years earlier than the average person. Yet it pains you so much to keep going. Now is the perfect opportunity to get things over and done with. But you remember that most people usually leave behind a note before going through with such a thing. And so you sigh, cleaning yourself up shortly before sitting down on your desk, a pen in your right hand and your left fingers tapping against the wood material. You’re not sure what to say. Your mind has gone blank. Stupid head! Why can’t anything ever go right!? So you write the only thing you can think of.

“I’m sorry.”

\----

It seems so surreal. You take one final look at yourself, feeling disgusted. Things didn’t have to end this way; in fact, they never should have. But really, all you want now is to be reunited with your mother again. You’ve never really been able to rid of her image. She’s always there, she’s always been there. And here you are, sitting on the cold tile floor, a blade in your hand, the sleeve of your shirt rolled up… you’re about to destroy the last part of herself that she’s left behind. You  _ are _ a part of her, and you’re hurting. You can’t help but feel a _tiny_ bit guilty for what you’re about to do, but it’s your only way out. Why bother changing your mind now? You’ll only look like a coward. You’ll only be running away from things again. That’s all you’re ever good at. 

Tears spill from your eyes. You’ve made up your mind. You scream, for the last time as you press down as hard as you can. Blood spills out from your skin, and you go deeper and deeper… until you’re almost positive you’ve struck something. It hurts… it hurts so much. If only someone were there to comfort you. You look down at the mess you’ve made. A piece of tissue seems to be poking out, and you can no longer stand to see the damage you’ve done. Again, you dig even deeper into the cut, hoping you’ve gone to the bone. It hurts… but you’re sure things will be alright soon. You close your eyes. You want sleep to come. 

You hear banging on the door. Oh, have they noticed already? _That’s too bad._ You can already feel yourself going. The door is suddenly forced open, and you can hear concerned voices- those coming from your dormmates. Two forceful hands are gripped against your forearm, but the damage has already been done. You can’t be saved now. You smile, for the last time as you become consumed in the darkness.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry i had to do ken dirty like this


End file.
